


A Monopoly On Kisses

by notalone91



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: ...kind of? I mean, Alternate Universe - Pennywise is Defeated in the First Battle (IT), Bickering, Bisexual Richie Tozier, College, Doesn't matter, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Being Idiots, Eddie Kaspbrak Has a Crush on Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Family Game Night, First Kiss, Found Family, Game Night, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier's Trashmouth, and like... second third fourth and fifth, idiots to lovers, in my defense i have none, or you could also see it as, rated r for language, that's entirely up to you, they don't forget each other in between because they all move into a big house together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 17:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalone91/pseuds/notalone91
Summary: It's Losers Family Game Night and Eddie can't bring himself to attend.   Not with so much else on his mind.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	A Monopoly On Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: Reddie 12 & 19 (12: Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss. 19: One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss)

It was Tuesday which meant it was Losers Family Game Night. Except, as far as most of the Losers knew, Eddie Kaspbrak had a study group that he just couldn’t get out of.

In truth, he had needed a minute. And a drink. And a quiet walk around the city. All that had done for him was solidified his realization. He needed to get his shit together. For over a decade, he’d pined. He’d watched as Richie went on a never-ending string of increasingly frustrating bad dates. He listened as he bitched about each of them after they’d all, inexplicably, failed to realize how wonderful he was. At 22, in his senior year of college and living with his six best friends in a rented house just off campus, he was really, truly living, and- He’d had enough waiting. He wanted Richie. 

He headed back to the house and snuck in the backdoor, heading up the kitchen stairs to sit, cross-legged on Richie’s bed, and just waited, picking at a tiny hole at the bottom hem of his faded old T-Shirt with the demon car. He didn’t want to deal with Game Night or anyone else until he saw Richie. 

Downstairs, the rest of the Losers Club were chatting happily and setting up the board for a friendly and _ Not-At-All-Competitive-Beverly-Remember-What-Happened-Last-Time  _ game of Monopoly. Richie stood up from the ottoman and moved for the stairs. “Hang on, guys, don’t start without me. I just want to change into sweats,” he said, adding “Stan, pull the-”

“Shoe,” he predicted, plucking it out of the box from under Beverly’s fingers as she huffed, reaching from the couch behind him, nearly knocking the wind out of Ben with an accidental kick to the gut, securing the Top Hat for herself before Stan could swipe it. His call doubled as an encouragement to getting him out and back. “Got it,” Richie shot him a thumbs-up behind his back. “Hurry, it’s already 6,” he called, knowing that, at this rate, they were going to be up until way later than he’d like. He had work in the morning, even if no one else had class until noon.

Richie was already upstairs and opening the door to his room, though. He already had the top of his jeans unbuttoned, heading to his dresser for something more comfortable. He let them drop, stepping out of them in just his boxers. 

Momentarily stunned by the situation he found himself in, Eddie found his voice quick enough. “Hey Richie,” he said quietly. “Can we talk?”

Jumping backward and knocking his dresser drawer shut on his finger, though managing to come up with the pants he’d come in search of, Richie yelped. “Ow! Fuck,” he hissed, popping the injured digit into his mouth instinctively. “Eds, what-” He stopped, looked down at himself, and immediately felt his face flush hot. “What’s up?” he asked, covering himself up with the hastily retrieved garment before realizing he could indeed put them on.

“I need to say something to you and I need to say it all before you interrupt me so can you be uncharacteristically quiet for like 5 minutes before you say anything that’s going to make me potentially jump out of your bedroom window in embarrassment,” Eddie said, taking a sharp intake of breath before adding a quiet, “please?”

Brows furrowed behind his glasses, Richie moved to his bed and sat beside Eddie. “Of course,” he said, fighting off the instinct to point out that anything that was going to take Eddie five minutes to say would take 30 from anyone else- maybe 15 from him, but what’s 10 minutes between friends, right? “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he said quietly, picking at his cuticle before dropping his hands into his lap. He looked over at Richie, who was looking at him so softly that he could hardly stand it and stood up. “Can you not look at me while I say any of this? I can’t deal with your face and those big fucking eyes staring at me while I try to put my thoughts together because if I do, Richie, I swear I’m never going to get through this,” he said as he started to pace. 

Richie stared up at him incredulously for a moment, wondering just what in the hell he’d gotten himself into, before shaking it off. “Sure. Whatever you need,” he said, plucking the plush beaver Eddie had won him at the carnival one year. At the time, he may have buried it under a dirty joke or ten, - and by may have, he  _ absolutely  _ did, but it made Eddie laugh that big, open laugh that always twisted a knot in Richie’s gut he couldn’t place at the time but he definitely had figured out by now, so it wasn’t for nothing- but it was, and remained to the day, one of his most prized possessions.

It appeared, though, that Eddie didn’t need Richie’s agreement for any of this. “I mean, how couple I possibly focus when you’re there and you look like that and you’re my best fucking friend and you just get whatever it is that I’m trying to say without me having to try which is impressive considering that I try really fucking hard all the time and you’re always there! And you always play along! And you’re-” he looked back at Richie and clenched and unclenched his fists quickly. “I just don’t get it and of course you’re going to say no because, I mean, you’re you and why would you even want to so it doesn’t-”

“Eds, I don’t mean to interrupt this conversation you’re having with yourself when you did ask for five minutes but,” he said, standing up and placing the stuffed animal back on his bed with a lightly confused expression, “you haven’t actually said-”

“AND THEN, here you are, six-fucking-two and cheekbones and shoulders and hands and-” he spluttered, struggling, “and-and-and I can’t even focus on anything at all because you’re this fucking hot AND you’re quite possibly the funniest person I’ve ever met, despite all of the fighting and calling me names that are absolutely mortifying but I don’t hate as much as I say I do because I know that it’s endearment from you,” he said, taking the hand that he hadn’t even noticed Richie had reached out to him. He rolled it thoughtfully in his own hand and smiled. “But, then, you have to be such a fucking idiot, like there’s not a brain under that perfect mop of curls you call hair, and go on all of these stupid dates with these stupid assholes who don’t see how sweet and smart and brave and funny and gorgeous you are and I have to wonder why the fuck it’s always them and not me when I’m right fucking here. And every time one of these shitbrained lowlifes breaks your heart, I end up here in this exact spot, surrounded by your dirty laundry, wondering what in the hell happened to make you ignore what was right in front of your face the whole damn time; trying to figure out why it’s them and not me because I swear if I had you, I’d never let you go.” Eddie took another breath that might have been a little huffier than he’d intended, but he was mad. He was madly in love with Richie. So sue him if he thought that it was stupid that, after over ten years, he was going to have to admit it before he, maybe literally, exploded.

Even though he was hearing every word and, practiced as he was in the art of Eddie-fication, Richie was having trouble following. “I need something a little more linear here, Eds. Give me something to go on.”

Give him something to go on, he did. Eddie launched himself onto his tiptoes, arms draped over Richie’s shoulders as he kissed him. If Richie had had any warning at all, he might have been quicker on the uptake. He settled into the kiss quick enough, pulling Eddie up into his arms eagerly. It still wasn’t close enough for Eddie. He wound one hand into Richie’s hair, adjusting his neck for a better angle.

“God, why are you so fucking tall?” he panted when he finally came up for air. “One of us is gonna end up needing a chiropractor if we keep this up,” he added.

Letting his hands wander lower, he gripped the back of Eddie’s thighs and hoisted him up so they were a little closer to even and kissed him again. “Better?” he asked, despite feeling pretty confident that it was. 

Richie smiled at him. That was sort of what he thought. “You drive me insane, too,” he said, moving his strong hands to Eddie’s biceps and pulling him in closer. “And I love you, too.” 

Eddie looked up at him, quietly stunned. He thought back over everything he’d said but he was pretty sure that he’d left that bit out. “You-”

“That was the general takeaway of your rant, right? Because, honestly, Eds, it was a little all over the place but there was a good bit of mentioning different physical attributes, some jealousy and frustration with my past dating experiences, some mentioning of things other than my body, but,” he drew his lips into a straight line and shrugged, “to be fair, I’m sure you had a speech but I came in here and dropped trough and shot that all to shit,” he laughed, getting a slight blush from Eddie, “followed by a good deal of insulting which is Spaghetti-Speak for I love you.” 

Richie leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Eddie’s waist. “Is it?” Eddie asked, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t had much of a plan past this part. 

Nodding, Richie leaned back a little. “I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend for a long time,” he admitted. Beneath his hands, he could practically feel Eddie vibrating with excitement. “That is, if you want me, too?”

A bright smile crept along Eddie’s face, initiating those dimples Richie liked so much he could fucking scream. “Of course, I want you,” he said, letting his hands rest wrapped tightly in the buttons of his shirt. “I want you more than anything else I can think of.” 

“Good. Because you’re stuck with me, my man,” he said, swaying them both back and forth happily, a slow dance. Then, realizing what he’d said and the implications of it, he simply smiled. “ _ My _ man.” Eddie leaned up on his tiptoes and kissed him once more, pulling him in by his shirt before hooking his arms around his neck. From the living room, there was a chorus of shouts for Richie to hurry the fuck up. “Are you gonna come down with us? Because I don’t want to stop this, but-”

Eddie released a heavy sigh. “Go,” he groaned, shoving him out the door and toward the steps. It was stupid, he realized, waiting this long. Grinning broadly as he watched Richie pad down the steps. He ducked toward the front door and opened it, pulling Richie toward him as he closed it, giving them the option of making it seem like Eddie had just gotten home. Still, his hand in Richie’s felt right. The way Richie had instinctively moved his hand to Eddie’s hip might have made his heart skip a beat as he hovered closer, obscured from the Losers by the wall with their coat rack on it. 

Leaning in, Richie captured Eddie’s lips with his own, pressing himself flush against him. It was exhilarating. He had never in a million years thought that it would happen like this, if it happened at all. He thought there would be some long, pitiful conversation. Some dramatic scene. He’d expected tears and panic- maybe even some puke, on his end. 

But this?

Kissing Eddie was easy. Having Eddie as a boyfriend- being Eddie’s boyfriend- that was going to be even easier. Effortless. Inevitable. He could feel it. He could tell. 

Still, he had to stop. He had to pull back for a moment before he lost his head entirely and they got caught. “Do you really want to do this?” he asked, thumb grazing lightly over Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie leaned into his hand and looked up at him, a hint of mischief in those deep, brown eyes. He entwined his freehand in Richie’s hair, kissing him with an even more determined fire than he had the first time. Richie hummed in surprise against his mouth, then melted against him dramatically, like the snowman turning into the little boy in that soup commercial. He tilted Eddie’s face up and leaned into him, feeling their hearts running a race. For once, Richie thought, just a part of him might be faster than Eddie. 

When he finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Eddie nodded. “I really, really do.” 

“See you in there, then,” he said, kissing him lightly one last time for the moment, smiling briefly against his lips.

Hearing Stan call out to him again, Richie turned and practically bounced back into the living room Eyes wide, Eddie whispered a harsh, “Wait. I didn’t mean to tell them. I just meant yes to you!” Richie settled in against the pile of throw pillows on the far side of the room, and busied himself collecting his money from Stan and bitching at Mike for stealing his seat. “Richie? Richie!” Eddie continued to hiss, digging his fists into his hair. “Fuck.”

He peeked around the corner and took in the set-up. Bev and Ben were still on the couch but she was sitting up, poised for battle. Stan was on the floor with his back against the couch, knees against the coffee table, bank assembled in the lid and safely under the table where Beverly couldn’t reach without alerting him. Bill’s chair was still vacant, because he was still in the kitchen making drinks. Mike sat cross legged on the ottoman with Richie nested in the pillows beside him. His heart skipped another beat-  _ it really needed to stop doing that _ \- as he realized that that caught-the-canary look Richie had was because of him. He looked so  _ happy _ . And fuck- he was, too.

“Was that the food?” Mike asked. 

“No,” Richie answered, then paused. “Well, I mean. It’s something I plan on eating later,” he added quickly, raising his eyebrows as Eddie ducked out of sight. He laughed a little, knowing he was gonna hear it for that later. 

From the entryway, there was the sound of a definite thunk of head against wall. “What was that?” asked, moving to get up, spooked.

“Probably the pasta coming to a boil,” Richie offered, situating his loudly colored money beside him. Beverly looked at him curiously.

Still missing the point, “What? What pasta?” Mike asked, looking over at the rest of the group as Bill came in from the kitchen with their drinks. “Didn’t we order pizza? I don’t-”

Once he’d freed his hands, handing Richie and Mike their beers, popping the open wine bottle down in front of Ben and Bev passing Stan his 7 and 7, Bill asked, “Richie, did you hit your head? How many f-fingers?” offering two individual fingers for him to focus on as he plopped down into his chair, taking a swig of his own beer.

“Three if I play my cards right,” Richie winked. Off to his left, Stan squinted at him. Not that it was any different from his normal schtick, per se, but there was something different about Richie. Bev picked up on it, too, swatting Stan on the shoulder and fixing him with a deliberate stare.

“Oh my God!” Eddie groaned, spinning in a circle. He buried his face in his hands. That wasn’t what he meant. He hadn’t-

“Eddie?” Ben asked, craning his neck to get a better angle to try to see into the entryway. “I thought he had that study group he couldn’t get out of tonight.” 

Perking up, Bev leaned across the arm of the sofa, shouting, “Eds! If that’s you, get your ass in here!” 

Eddie let one deep breath fill his lungs as he dropped his head back, closing his eyes. He was going to have to kill his boyfriend. Even with attack mode activated, he still smiled at the thought. The word boyfriend meant Richie which made him go warm all over. He shook it off and peeked back around the corner. “Hey, guys,” he said, sheepishly.

Bill turned around, more than a little shocked to find the seventh Loser home. “What g-gives?”

“You said you wouldn’t be home until super late tonight?” Bev asked, gesturing for him to come sit with her and Ben.

There was a chorus of agreement as he fully entered the room, arms folded protectively around his waist. He looked down at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact that would clearly give him away, until “Yeah, Spaghetti. What gives?” Richie said with a crooked smile, cocking his head to one side as he leaned back on his elbows.

“Fuck you, dude. I take it all back. Every fucking word,” Eddie growled, crossing to Richie and swiping one of the pillows out from under him to smack him in the gut with it. “You’re such a dipshit, you know that right? I meant yes to you not yes to whatever the fuck you took me saying yes to mean.” Richie opened his mouth, meaning to point out that the rest of the Losers were still in the room. Instead, all he could do was gape at his boyfriend. “Oh, fucking forgive me if I wanted to take a minute to enjoy the fact that I finally got over my shit, marched back here, and made a fucking move! Maybe I wanted to keep it between us for, oh, I don’t know ten minutes before you broadcast to all of our friends that I just asked you out.”

Richie blinked a couple of times, stunned. He held his hand up, preparing to count off on his fingers. “So, to recap, you came home completely unannounced-”

“I live here, asshole! Do I have to tell you all-”

Flexing his outstretched hand, Richie added his index finger to the list, “Started fucking yelling at me about my face, my dating habits, my laundry habits, and my mouth,” added a third, smiling as he glanced past Eddie at the shocked faces of their friends, “kissed me, started yelling at me again for being too fucking tall but if I’m not mistaken,” he said, letting his hand spring back to his chest with a loud thud, “I am the one who made the startling confession and did the boyfriend asking and then returned to the game night that you were invited to in the house that we share with our friends without so much as a fucking word past reiterating that you really did want to be with me,” he listed, counting them off on the three fingers he’d joked about just moments earlier. He reached up, and took Eddie’s hand. “You, light of my life and pain in my ass, are the one who came in here guns blazing and broadcasting it for all of these Losers. I was simply being casual!”

Eddie squeaked out a laugh. “As if! You came in with all of the jokes and the fucking commentary! What the hell did you think they were going to think” Something I plan to eat later? What the fuck, Richie? I swear-”

“Because you’re so cute, cute, cute, I could just eat you up, Spaghetti,” Richie said, tugging at his boyfriend’s hand, chewing at his lower lip.

Stan sighed, pulling the box out from under the table and starting to count out Eddie’s starting pile. “He’s always talked about you like that,” he said flatly.

“Yeah, as s-soon as you came in we would have just let it g-go as him being a dickhead,” Bill laughed, reaching into his pocket for his wallet and pulling out a fifty, taking the one Mike was flagging toward the table and tossing them both at Ben. Bev and Stan both dug through their Monopoly money and tried to pawn that off as fair, receiving nothing but a disapproving tut from Ben, now $200 richer- in  _ real  _ currency, even.

Settling back into his spot, Stan glanced over at his friends, thoroughly happy for them. “So, if you two are done, we were just starting on Monopoly and I had the car set aside just in case,” he offered, sticking the pawn on the stack of brightly colored bills and handing them up to Eddie who just stared blankly at him. “I open tomorrow. In or out?”

Richie swiped the pieces and laughed. “C’mere,” he said said, a little roughly, tugging Eddie down to sit between his legs. Snuggling back against his boyfriend, he smiled, rocking back and forth a bit. 

All it took was one subtle moment- Richie pressed his lips to Eddie’s neck gently, whispering in his ear and Eddie shut his eyes smiling happily. Mike cooed some nonsense about it being ‘about damn time,” and Eddie blushed, admitting that, yeah, it was. That’s all it took for Stan to lock eyes with Eddie, claiming that now he was vulnerable. The peace was broken with unrelenting trash talk as Eddie took first roll.

“Is it a g-good idea to play  _ Monopoly, of all things, _ the day they actually g-get together?” Bill asked Ben quietly as he walked back to the kitchen to grab the second round. As oldest, he always went last for every game, making him the barmaid, most nights.

“It’s not like they’ve never played together before,” Ben answered, watching the new couple with a gentle smile as his own girlfriend batted his hand away for distracting her. “Besides, Richie’s pretty calm with Monopoly.”

“It’s not Richie I’m worried about,” Bill said as Richie cursed. Eddie had given an evil laugh, teasing that Ben had always been on his side and, in throwing his head back, nearly concussed him. “Although, maybe I should be,” he laughed, shaking his head, passively wondering if, maybe, he could see the future or something because hadn’t he  _ just  _ asked-

**Author's Note:**

> For science: Richie plays as the shoe (and always beats Bev out for it even though _I'm a fashion and design major, Richie, I should get to be the shoe_ because it is always, always met with _the top hat is fashion, Bev. That shoe looks like something that would have been fished out of a lake by one of the Looney Toons. It is trash and ergo, mine_ ), Stan sometimes steals the Top Hat, but will settle for the Thimble because it's just weird enough. Mike plays as the horse, Ben plays as the dog, Bill's the wheelbarrow because Eddie is always, _always_ the car.
> 
> Eddie, Bev, and Stan are vicious and will always play Monopoly if given the choice. Stan is a stickler for rules. So is Eddie- to an extent. Bev is just balls out with whatever they play. Bill is awful at Monopoly and has adapted clue for them to play with 7 players. He was ecstatic when Stan brought home Clue Master Detective because you can play with more than 6 people _without using the Iron out of Monopoly and a Trivial Pursuit mover, **Bill!**_ Speaking of- Ben and Mike like trivia type games but get pissy when Richie dusts them easily. Richie, unsurprisingly, prefers more creative or language-based games. Taboo, Scattergories, that kind of thing. When he proposes to Eddie, he makes sure that their next Game Night is Mad Gab so that "Wheel Yum Air Ream Me" is immediately answered by Eddie with "I said yes to that one already, dumbass," bringing the round to a screeching halt.


End file.
